


Watermelon Sugar

by pumkinteacup



Series: Happy Hour with Karen Page [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Almost Drunk Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 06:24:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4380659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumkinteacup/pseuds/pumkinteacup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karen gets drunk.</p><p>"I don't think Daredevil would like me very much," she decides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watermelon Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic was inspired from one of the drinks that got me drunk a few weeks ago. It was actually my first time ever getting drunk, never forget.

When Karen goes to the bathroom to ‘check her makeup’ and not change her tampon, she returns with giggles and a smile, pointing out the two girls who took her for Blake Lively (and begged for a selfie.) “I told them you were Ryan and getting into character for a new role,” she says as they get up.

“Who’s Ryan?” Matt asks.

Foggy had abandoned their group half an hour ago, giggling like a school girl over some texts that were from Marci who was clearly trying to convince a certain avocado for a late night visit.

“Don’t worry, guys. _This_ Foggster isn’t easily persuaded,” he says before spilling yet another beer.

When his phone chimes to reveal a photo message that Karen would have been better off not seeing, he dashes away but not before bumping into a few chairs on his way out.

Karen doesn’t need to have super hearing to hear the loud cries of victory once Foggy’s cab arrives. She giggles and asks Matt if that’s what he had to deal with in Law School. Matt smiles, fond memories she could only imagine playing in his head, “You have no idea.”

When she drags him to the bar for one last drink, ‘because I’m thirsty!’ she points to a bottle of vodka that she insists is water. Matt stops her.

“I’m fine,” Karen waves as she orders.

“You can close the tab,” Matt tells the server, who looks unmoved and indifferent to the situation. And that’s when Karen remembers, she opened a tab! This whole time she thought the guy was giving her drinks for free. Opps.

“Look pal, I close the tab when she says to close the tab,” the guy says in an unnecessary gust of rudeness.

“Close the tab,” Matt orders, voice firm and dangerous, “or I’ll have no choice but to report you for contributing to the delinquency of minors …” And Karen tones the rest out as she watches in awe. He’s using a recognizable tone she’s heard him use in court and it’s making the butterflies in her stomach wink and nudge one another.   

With the wall length mirror behind the server she begins to realize her hair is looking more of a halo than actual hair. With Matt’s stern voice, she’s brought back to reality.

“Now,” Matt starts again, “Close the tab.”

The man darts a look to Karen.

Karen’s eyelids flutter and face flush, nods in agreement to whatever Matt just said. “He’s a lawyer,” she says proudly.

Karen gets her tab closed and called Serena on her way out. Still pouting a block away and anchoring herself onto Matt’s arm just as she did with Foggy on their night out, she looks up from Matt’s shoulder. She’s practically putting all her weight onto the whole thing, he must be strong.

She squeezes his bicep, strong indeed.

“I’m blonde,” Karen shares.

“Oh really?”

She hums her response, “You’re not,” she says with a quick ruffle. And she instantly apologizes after and promises to comb his hair later. Matt smiles, “Its ok, Karen. I’m sure you only made it look better.”

“Are you drunk?” she asks. She doesn’t want to be the only one drunk. When she first went out drinking with Foggy it was a blast she wouldn’t mind reliving, the two of them taking care of one another, walking in the street aimlessly just looking for some trouble, fun

She has an awful feeling Sober Karen is going to feel awfully guilty and embarrassed in the morning for having Matt taking care of her.

“No, I stopped drinking after my second beer, you on the other hand … I lost count. And Foggy wasn’t very helpful in that.”

Karen nods, face numb and ears buzzing. “He bought me two more shots before he left.”

Matt’s lips curl disapprovingly, “I know.”

“You do?” she asks. How would he know? He was in the bathroom. But Matt doesn’t reply, continues walking as if she hadn’t said a thing. She glares at him for that, don’t ignore me she wants to say. She’s not stupid.

“I know you’re not.”

“What?”

“I said I know you’re not stupid.”

Matt must be a mind reader and she notes his smile.

 “See, I don’t know what these are,” Karen explains, “are these laugh lines or dimples?” she asks, pointing at the creases/indents of her friend’s face as he smiles.

“You know, you’re not the first to ask that.”

“Really?”

“Yea, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were laugh lines with being friends with Foggy. But he remembers them when we met, so,” he shrugs “guess they’re from puberty.”

“Puberty is horrible.” She says, “ _was_ horrible.” So glad that’s behind her.

“Yea,” Matt agrees solemnly.

“What do you mean, ‘yea’?” Karen asks, “You’re a guy. You got to have orgasms in your sleep; I would have killed for that when I was twelve!”

Matt chokes.

“You guys had it easy. You got boners and taller,” she lists off “we bleed and got visits from the police from calling in dying.”  

Matt laughs, throws his head back at the words.

“It’s not funny,” she glares “I really thought I was dying.”

Matt’s face sobers, serious and apologetic, “You’re right, I’m sorry.” They cross the street. “What happened?”

“Nothing. I got my period and told them there was blood.” Her feet are starting to hurt, dang heels. “They asked what was wrong and said it was my pants.”

Matt’s lips twitch but doesn’t laugh.

“How old were you?”

“Ten.”

When Matt and Karen step off the curve, she almost falls but Matt catches her. A string of profanities falls from her lips and they just keep rolling.

“Damn, sweetheart,” a homeless man rising from a pile of trash says, “Woke me up.” Karen apologizes and offers to sing him a lullaby before Matt steers her away. Doesn’t stop her from singing it though.

She asks if she sings better than Foggy but stops Matt from answering, “Don’t tell me, I already know the answer.” She continues to sing when suddenly remembering something Matt had told her.

“Do you really like the sound of my voice?” she asks.

Matt nods in confirmation as they head onto the next street.

“What does my voice sound like?”

And Matt takes a moment before answering and answers, “Like humming birds falling in love.”

The butterflies in Karen’s stomach become insulted at that, because really, humming birds? But Karen only smiles, feels her halo become brighter and heart lighter. She becomes sluggish at his side and he doesn’t seem to mind.

They’ve been walking for a while now and if it weren’t for Karen’s sudden fondness of Matt’s arm, she’d say Matt had super powers. She hasn’t been navigating and paying attention to their surroundings. She’s only now discovered they’ve crossing yet another street without Matt even pressing the stop light to announce their turn to go.

Now that she thinks about it, she can’t recall him pressing any of them. She’s about to ask how he’s been doing it but feels her throat constrict.

Has she thrown up already? She wants to throw up already, doesn’t want to prolong it until they stop in front of an apartment building. She looks up and wobbles, she has got to take her heels off once she gets inside because vertigo.

When they make it to the door and let’s go of Matt’s arm she gets a good look of his face. The beginning of a bruise is blooming onto Matt’s temple, Karen reaches to touch it and he flinches. He’s hurt. Matt’s hurt. He’s always hurt. Coming into work with a cut or limp, it’s always something.

Her lip quivers and voice breaks, “What happened, Matt? Why are you hurt?” Her fists close around his suit, tears beginning to spill and voice cracking, “ _Again_?”

And Matt seems to be a loss for words, hands moving aimlessly to steady her. He can’t even give an answer. Another lie. And she wants to continue, go off on him and all the lies he’s been feeding her. Doesn’t want to keep playing the role of the clueless blonde. Something’s up. She knows it. And before she has a chance to get another word in, she breaks into tears, burying her face into his chest.

Matt’s hands make it to her sides as she shakes, sobs filling the empty hallway possibly waking the whole building.  

“I’m sorry,” he says.

And she knows he means it.

His hands briefly rub her back for comfort but his very presence is enough for that. Once she’s done, he lets go, and makes coffee.  She settles on the couch, wrapping the blanket draped on the back around her shoulders.

When Matt hands her coffee she thanks him, feelings of gratitude amplifying at the gesture.

“I like you,” Karen coos.

Matt smiles, “I like you too, Karen.”

She wants to say she likes Foggy too. Doesn’t want to give away her crush and ignores the insistent butterflies in her stomach that urge her to do so. She shushes them and Matt gives her a strange look. 

She ignores him, takes a sip of her coffee and grimaces, “I don’t like you,” she says to the dark liquid. Matt shakes his head and chuckles.   

When Karen puts her mug down she focuses on the lights moving around in Matt’s living room. The colors are bright and pink, swirling around like paint getting dipped in water. She takes a brief glance at the windows, the billboard reminding her of her sanity and not a hallucination.

 “Matt?” she asks, voice small and soft, like a child confessing to a lie. His eyebrows rise, acknowledging and waiting. “I don’t think Daredevil would like me very much,” she says.

“Why would you say that?” Matt asks.  

“ _Because,”_ she states, as if that were reason enough. She realizes she would make a terrible lawyer. A journalist on the other hand, she ponders, thinks of Ben and his passion to set the truth free. Her stomach rumbles painfully at the thought, the truth would put her behind bars.  

“Because,” she tries again, “He doesn’t like bad people,” and she stares at her hands. The same ones cradling her coffee with a false delicacy even Foggy fell for that morning. The light bulb she changed would have been no different being with Fisk. “And I’m bad people.”

“You’re not bad, Karen.” Matt says.

“No,” she squeezes her eyes shut. “I am.”

And closing her eyes is the wrong move. The moment she does, all she sees are the violent jerks of a body getting shot to death, the sight of crimson appearing on white and final moments of a man become lifeless, all the doing of a monster fleeing the scene.

She feels her freedom awaiting her, chest and heart unraveling like ribbons undoing all the knots and tremors she’s experienced at night, the vision of revenging hands wrapping around her neck by the very man they put away.

“Because I,” she starts, and her head begins to whirl, air rushing past her ears and wind knocking into her chest, the truth would set her free, but her body didn’t seem to agree.  

Karen gasps, loud and painful, air escaping in warning.

“Karen?” Matt sits up alarmed.

Her throat closes up and its coming, the truth the --  

She vomits.

In the morning when Karen wakes up in silk and drool, a blurry replay of last night’s events reels in her head. She remembers getting her hair held back, crying (she doesn’t know what about), and swearing. Lots and lots of swearing. And singing?

There’s an almost repeat of nausea and vomiting once the smell of lingering throw up and breakfast reach her nose. All the windows are open and Matt is kind, passes aspirin and water, asking if she remembers anything.

“Throwing up,” she answers while cupping her throat.

When she unlocks her phone later that day, it opens to an unfinished note, “Matts ddaredevil,” it reads. She deletes it without a second thought and with a shake of her head says, “I gotta stop drinking."

**Author's Note:**

> Haha how mean am I? Karen toads finds out Matt is Daredevil while drunk but completely forgets about it in the morning. I just thought that’ll be the perf ending. And no, Matt didn’t tell her. She discovered it for herself. Our girl is smart! And no she doesn't spill the beans in case you were wondering.


End file.
